The Vanishing Act
by eriah
Summary: For as long as he could remember, his life was entwined with bloodshed and slaughter. The fact had frightened him, yet he did not falter. Dark Fic. Royai.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

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><p><strong>1890<strong>

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><p>He had been bred for war.<p>

For as long as he could remember, his life was entwined with bloodshed and slaughter. The fact had frightened him, yet he did not falter.

Roy remembered little of his parents. Few memories chiseled in his mind, only ones of horror and demise. His father was a man of dishonor and of cowardice. And despite all the hardships he endured, he had the utmost disrespect for the people in his life.

His mother had not been better. Adele Morgan was an intelligence agent at the Christmas brothel. After having nowhere to go, Christine Mustang had given her a place to live, food to eat, and a job. The bond between the women had grown strongly, but the fate that waited for them was grim.

At the Christmas brothel, Adele met Chris' older brother, Roy Mustang. The tall dark haired man instantly charmed the voluptuous woman with muddy brown hair and dark eyes. Their love had been like the wonderful stories her mother had told her as a child and Adele immediately became smitten with the bloke. Contrary to his dashingly good looks, the man was a monstrosity. The love he had for her was only a pretense to get her to bed. It was how he talked to all women, she was not special. He fed her beautiful lies of a desired life and she fell for every well-crafted line spewed past his luscious lips.

Much like everyone else she ever knew, he betrayed and deceived her, and now she was damned with his child. She named his son after him, hoping the act would make him stay, but it was done to no avail. Adele regretted her only child's birth almost as much as the deplorable man she procreated with. Perhaps if the child inherited her features, she wouldn't have resented him so, but little Roy was the carbon copy of a man she detested and yet was infatuated with.

The problems between she and his sister arose soon after. She blamed Chris for letting Roy have other women and not caring for her, although Chris had little to do with her brother's choices.

The anguish she was put through had made Adele seek revenge. How dare he break her heart and try to get away with it? She had been through too much to be treated like vermin again.

For sometime now, the military had been looking for Roy for going AWOL. Since the man left during a time of war, the consequences for being a deserter were worse. Adele Morgan decided she would reveal to the military, the whereabouts of the man who hurt her and the truth about the brothel. However, she foolishly, shared her plan with a co-worker, who in turn told Chris.

The larger, but beautiful woman was enraged. After everything Chris Mustang did for Adele, she couldn't believe the woman would commit such treachery.

On that fateful night, Chris found her only brother sitting at the bar, nursing some hard liquor and whispering into a woman's ear who was sitting on his lap, the blonde woman giggling. As Chris approached the blonde backed away, not before pulling Roy by his tie and capturing his lips. He watched the woman walk off before turning to his sister with a disapproving look.

"You interrupted something important, you know." He sneered.

"I'm sure." She stared at her brother, anger apparent in her facial expression.

"What's your damage?" he asked, taking a swig of his liquor and preparing whatever scolding his younger sister had prepared for him.

"You know _who_, Roy. You need to stop her, because if you don't we're all screwed!" Chris cried out.

In all his years of knowing is younger sister it had been rare to see the plump woman so flustered. "What do you want me to do? Marry her? She shouldn't have fell for empty silvery words. She's a damn whore, not a woman one would marry, Chris."

"You're awful, you know that? You have a son, who I have been taking care of, because neither of you are responsible enough to do so!"

"I never asked the bitch to keep the kid. If she would have listened to me, she would have nipped him in the bud." Chris could hardly believe his response. How could he not care about his beautiful boy? His words earned him a sharp slap across the side of his face. She was fuming. Unfortunately, the resonating smack drew in the attention of many patrons in the bar. She lowered her tone in front of their audience, but her voice was still dripping with vehemence.

"Doesn't mean you can't act like his father! It was his fifth birthday last week and neither of you even showed up to the party the girls and I threw him!" she shouted.

"Enough." He hissed.

"You're sickening."

"Just shut your mouth and I'll help you. Trust me, the broad will think twice before messing with the Mustangs."

"You're going to threaten her?"

"Well, I'm sure as hell not going to marry her."

"You are the most irresponsible, despicable man I have ever met. If she informs the military, we'll be ruined. Why can't you see that?"

The man groaned and threw his hands up in the air in surrender. "Alright!"

[+]

Chris had never been the motherly type and especially never planned on having children of her own. She was a woman who would lay with a different man every night and earned her living that way. She was not like the women in the fairy tale's she would read to little Roy. Truth be told, the love of her life was found in the body of a five-year-old boy with onyx black hair and eyes to match. Little Roy was the only male who never broke her heart and the only male who appreciated her, bringing her gifts, albeit they were silly doodles or things he found in the garden.

Chris sat at the end of his bed, watching over the sleeping boy like a hawk. She pulled the blanket over him and smiled at the tiny child. She was more of a mother than the one who gave birth to him. And although, Adele and Roy weren't fit to take care of their son, she hoped they came to an agreement. It wasn't just the possibility of being incarcerated for having an intelligence agency, it was because little Roy deserved to have parents. But if they weren't there for him, well damning them to hell, she would be.

Torn from her thoughts, she heard her brother call out for her in the hall. _'If that idiot wakes up Roy-boy, I'm going to kill him,'_ she thought. She slowly crept out of the room and into the hall. Nearly colliding with him when she walked out of the door.

"What happened?"

"Chris, I – I…" he stammered, while pacing around in the quiet hall.

"You what?" she questioned, becoming apprehensive with his unusual anxious behavior. He grabbed her by her arm and forcefully pulled her to his room, shutting the door behind him.

He was shaking.

"She's dead!" he shouted in a whisper.

"What?" Chris' face blanched.

"I f-f-found her in the alley we were supposed to talk in, but she was…d-dead."

He buried his head in his hands. "What am I going to do? They'll think it's me. I'm done for!" he wailed.

"Leave." She uttered forcefully.

"What?"

"Go to Xing. Go to Aerugo. Go to Drachma. Anywhere, just get out of here!" She stated, still holding a forceful tone.

The man let out a sigh of relief that he had been holding. That's right, he could get out before anyone could accuse him and start a new life somewhere else.

After he quickly threw his items in a duffel bag, he wrapped his arms around his sister's portly body. Although the hug was unexpected, she knew much like the words he spoke, the gesture was empty. But what he said next surprised her. "Thank you, little sister." He held her tighter, "Take care of Roy-boy. I'm sure he'll make one hell of a man one day." He whispered in her ear.

She nodded her head. "Until we meet again, Roy." she muttered, watching him depart from her establishment.

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><p><strong>AN: Thoughts? Suggestions? Constructive criticism?**


	2. Escape Artist

**Author's Note: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, though, you already know that.  
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**Before I begin, I would like to thank Glowstick145, Haeye, IvyShort, Hawkeyeflame1921, and Cerisabeth for the reviews. I really am grateful you took the time to review.**

**Just a couple of things, this story is a multi-chapter fiction. This takes places a year before the manga/anime starts. Ed was around at that time, so he may make an appearance. **

**This is a dark fiction and what better couple to star in an ominous story, than Roy and Riza?  
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**At the moment, it is rated T, it might change, depending on how detailed it gets.  
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**Also, I decided to update this early, because I think the prologue doesn't give much of an insight to what this story really is about, but it is a crucial part to this story. So, if you haven't read it, please do!  
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****_Important!_ Before you read, keep in mind that the "figure" and the person in the last paragraph are not the same person! ****

**Anyway, thank you for taking the time out to read this lengthy note. I didn't intend to make it so long, however, since I failed to write a note in the prologue, I assumed it would be best to make mention of things now.  
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**I hope you enjoy!  
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><p><strong>1913<strong>

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><p>The stretch of clammy air that permeated East City was stifling. Roy consciously swiped away rivulets of sweat trickling down his face with the back of his arm. He and a band of soldiers had been sent to inspect a military owned building after receiving a call warning him the building was to going to explode.<p>

Three hours have passed since he initially arrived at the scene and safely evacuated employees from the building. Now he stood under the fiercely radiating sun, idly brooding as he waited for his bomb squad to secure the premises. He angrily gritted his teeth, damning these halfwits for ruining his perfectly good day. In fact, completing a mass of paperwork in his tepid office, sounded more appealing than baking outside in the torrid weather. Impatiently tapping his foot, he scanned the area for his subordinates. Breda was successfully flirting with a busty woman, Fuery and Falman were chatting with evacuees, and Hawkeye and Havoc were interrogating two suspects about the bomb planted in the multiple story building.

Roy's mind mused over the words old Grumman spoke to convince him to command the job, "_Colonel! What better opportunity could the Flame Alchemist have than to save hard-working civilians workers from a bomb?_ _It's great publicity, in fact, even Bradley will be eating out of the palm of your hand when he hears about your dauntless dedication to your country!_" Eating from the palm of his hand? The thought of the Fuhrer being that close made Roy shudder with disgust.

His gaze pivoted back to Hawkeye, who, to his amazement, wasn't wearing her military jacket. Instead, she wore her familiar black turtleneck, often hidden under her blue wool uniform. Perhaps, he thought, that he should follow her lead and remove his jacket and possibly use the discarded garment to suffocate Grumman for sending him out here. He groaned, combing his damp hair out of his face, oh, what would the women he took out on dates think if they saw him now?

Lethargically dawdling, he continued to observe the blonde, who seemed rather unbothered by the suffocating heat. It never ceased to amaze him how the once shy girl he met eleven years ago, was now the epitome of the perfect solider. The woman could work under any condition, from the sweltering heat to the bitter cold and not complain. He tenderly smiled, taking pride in having a hand in her upbringing.

Unfortunately, he realized he had been staring too long when her reddish-brown eyes met his black ones. He flinched as she frowned at him. Havoc who had noticed the frightened look on his colonel's face, let an unpleasant cackle erupt from his throat. Apparently finding Roy's blatant gawking of his aide humorous.

There were still things Riza needed to babysit him with, making sure he didn't neglect his duties as a commander was one of them. She excused herself from her task to check up on him.

"Colonel, is there any reason you are abandoning your duties?" she inquires, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes at him, like a mother chastising her child. He shot her a displeased look and she softened her expression. "Are you alright?" she questions, her face now etched with concern.

"Yes, I'm fine." he responds almost robotically.

Scrutinizing him, she furrows her eyebrows, making her look deep in-thought as if attempting to decipher archaic text.

Despite seeing her look of skepticism, he lies through his teeth once again. "I assure you, Lieutenant, that I am fine." He waits for her to scold him for lying but to his surprise she doesn't press on, instead she re-directes her gaze back to the evacuees. Her expression changing to one that was unreadable. He hated when she did that. It somewhat made him feel guilty for not confiding in her, even though there was nothing that was troubling his mind.

"Have you concluded anything useful?" he asks, averting the subject to something other than his fowl mood.

"Negative, sir. We have no reason to believe those men had anything to do with this gambit."

"Hmm" he hums, waiting for her to continue.

"The man who initially discovered the bomb is a custodian, a single parent of four. It would cost him to lose this job. The other man was simply delivering reports to the office and tried to help him. We previously suspected them because they were found fiddling with the bomb. However, they were just trying to disarm it. We have no reason to believe it was them."

She and Roy walk to a secluded area where their voice's are out of earshot. She lowers the volume of her voice to be cautious of any bystanders. "A few onlookers identified three men concealed by veils, loitering outside of the building early this morning. They couldn't describe anything specific, except that their skin was dark like an Ishvalan."

"Ishvalan?" His question sounded more like a statement. He was staggered by the revelation, least expecting there had been any survivors after the war four years ago. A war, no, a massacre, that still occasionally robbed him of sleep. If the culprits were Ishvalan, there was no denying they possessed an unbelievable will to live. Although, their reasoning to continue to survive wasn't very commendatory.

"Yes." she nods.

"What I can't quite understand though," He cups his chin with his hand, "...is why would they try to detonate a Court House?"

"I'm not sure, Colonel. However, I do advise you return to your duties. The Lieutenant General didn't select you just so you can sulk in the heat." She states humorously.

"I was not sulking." He pouts and crosses his arms. "And I was working. Now I'm just resting."

"You've been resting since we arrived, sir."

He wryly grins. "Scolding your superior officer could get your reprimanded."

"That's an abuse of power, _Colonel Mustang_." she responds in a playful manner.

"Yet you still stick around. I say Lieutenant Hawkeye, you are quite the masochist." Behind his characteristic grin, perverted thoughts were gyrating through his mind. He suppresses a chuckle, noticing her pale cheeks redden at the innuendo.

She clears her throat loudly. "I suggest you get back to work, _sir_."

"Oh, Lieutenant, you are no fun."

.

.

Skulking on the terrace of nearby café, a man leered at the pair of soldiers chattering outside of the building he had planted mock-up bombs in. While the soldiers had been occupied searching for bombs in the court house, his men had been ransacking the evacuated Records Bureau next door. He laughed at their stupidity.

The man analyzed the ebony-haired man with great interest. So, this is what Roy Mustang looked like in the flesh? It had been quite some time since he'd seen him last. And dare he admit that the man was much more attractive than he appeared in the newspapers and the flyers plastered around the city?

The figure desperately wanted to reach out and run his fingers through Mustang's bewitching soft black hair, trace his muscular body and inhale is unique scent. The thought of being so close to him made him quiver.

He nibbled on the croissant he bought from the café and savored the flaky, buttermilk pastry. As splendid as the taste was, he could only imagine that the taste of Roy Mustang was even sweeter. He snickered to himself, the joy he cradled in his chest was unbearable and he was almost convinced to abandon the mission and proceed with the plan early.

He continued to ogle Mustang, when he noticed his handsome obsession brush a stray gold lock away from the female soldier's face. The woman stared at him disapprovingly but he grinned at her, almost trying to justify his gesture. Although she was a woman, she was attractive, the lurking figure admitted. Though this moment in time he wanted to do nothing more than wring her neck for being so close to Mustang.

"Are you alright?" questions a waitress of the café, who had been collecting tableware.

The man hadn't noticed the hot tears rolling down his face until the woman asked, "Oh yes. It's just seeing those people over, so terrified from that bomb scare. _It's just simply awful._"

[+]

A sea of people had filled the bar to the brim. Madame Christmas recognized many faces in attendance, though, the occasional unfamiliar face pinched an unusual twinge in her core. A glint of gold from the crowd seized her gaze.

A tall man in overcoat was approaching her.

The swirl of cigarette smoke and the dim lights made it impossible to make out the figure approaching her. She quickly positioned her hand over the gun concealed under her purple cardigan.

When the man was arm's length away she instantly became motionless. His nostalgic musk infiltrated her nose, a sundry of bitter memories returning.

"Well, I'll be damned." she pronounces slowly. The volume had been so soft she hardly recognized her own voice escaping her wrinkled mouth. She rubs her eyes with her hands. There was no way the man in front of her was really who she thought it was. Was it?

When he came in arm's length she placed her hand on his cheek, making sure she was really seeing the man in front of her. The years he'd been away had changed him dramatically, he was no longer the robust and alluring man he had been all those years ago. While his hair was mostly a familiar jet-black, it was peppered with gray and white strands dispersed over the mop of hair. He had always been well sculpted, and although he still had muscle, he was now pudgy, though not quite rotund. His baby face had also change considerably, like a map, the wrinkles on his creased his skin recounted hardships in he had faced.

Now, he was a dilapidated shell of a man she once knew. The truth had left her feeling dejected, and she felt partially to blame.

It was fact she had never been close to her older brother, but she couldn't help but feel elated and yet terribly irate to see him again. It's not everyday you see someone who had vanished for years. And you can't help find it ironic that the last place you saw them, is the first place you meet them again.

"_Brother?_"

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><p><strong>Note:<strong>

**I'm going to repeat what I said earlier, the "figure" and the person in the last paragraph are not the same person!  
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**Opinions? Suggestions? Constructive Criticism?**

**Please Review if you have the opportunity to do so. Thank you!  
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	3. Reunion

**Author's Note: I do not own FMA.**

**This chapter is a little bit longer than the last. Truthfully, I'm not very fond of it. Though, I still hope you enjoy it.  
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**Side Note: Thank you very much to those who read, reviewed, alerted, and favorited. As I've said before and will continue to say, it is greatly appreciated.**

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><p>Once the short-lived moment of disbelief subsides, reality returns once more along with a multitude of questions knocking at the door of her mind. However, there was only one question that seemed to cover all of the areas of her astonishment. For all she knew, the man could have been dead. No letters or calls to assure he left the country safely, instead she was left to deal with the hardship of being a mother. "What are you doing here?" she asks, a tinch of suspicion in her voice.<p>

He chuckles at her apparent confusion. Not at all surprised his only sibling suspects he is up to no good. "Are you not happy to see me, little sister?"

The unexpected visit had left her feeling a range of emotions in a single moment. There were several scenarios she often thought of, had her only brother returned, yet with the man standing in front of her, she couldn't act in any way she imagined she would. Despite being angry and disappointed with him, she was elated to know he was still alive. With shaking hands, she tries her to light her cigarette, swiping the match against the jagged matchbox strip a couple of times before she successfully strikes a flame. Triumphant, she brings the stick to her mouth, inhaling the harsh carcinogenic smoke. Her hands still shaking.

"When did you pick up that awful habit?" he questions, a contorted expression forming on his face. In all his years he'd known his sister, she had never been a smoker.

"When you left me with a kid to take care of." She retorts bitterly. "What are you doing here?"

He frowns at the honesty in her remark, but decides to ignore it. "I wanted to see you, Chris. The girls. To see...little Roy." He takes a swig of the liquid in his glass. It's harsh contents burning his throat as it travels to his stomach. Despite his drastic change, his love for alcohol clearly hadn't changed much. "I've been running away from my problems my whole life, I've decided that it was finally time to come back and face my problems head on."

"It took you twenty years to realize you were a screw up?"

He nods ever so slowly, avoiding eye contact with her. For some reason she had become much more intimidating than she ever was. "It's not something I'm proud to admit." An uncomfortable silence creeps amongst them, making their meeting become increasingly uncomfortable.

The sudden silence had turned into several minutes.

Neither of them able to process any proper words or convey any type of emotion. The arrival had been so unexpected that she could hardly think swiftly. Roy senior had voyaged to the pits of hell, it had been obvious by his now worn physical appearance, yet she still could not ask him where he had been for the last two decades. She could only imagine what things he had done to make him age so terribly.

Minutes turn into an hour, and Madame hardly realized much of the bar had cleared out. Her girls had been hopping around, graciously accepting tips from inebriated men stumbling about. The bouncers of the bar unkindly shoved drunk patrons out of the doors. Her establishment was less of a whorehouse than it once was, it had mostly become a place where the women gathered intelligence from unsuspecting men. It was the art of retrieving classified information. Rich executives, Men of the military, blue collar, white collar, they were all treated the same at the Christmas brothel. The only people who landed one of her woman in bed was one who wouldn't easily give up information. Though, most men and women were just coaxed into getting terribly sloshed. It was a method she came up with after Roy's mom's death, the women assumed that only someone who discovered her actual profession could commit such an atrocious crime, had they found out she was gathering intelligence on them.

"Umm, Madame?" a high pitched voice calls from behind her. Like a falling stone echoing in a desolate canyon, the abrupt vocalization shakes her from the tranquility she had obtained. Chris turns to see it's the brunette she had recently promoted to an agent, Vanessa. She was the child of a woman who long worked for Chris' since Roy was a child. In fact, Chris had once believed Roy and Vanessa would be betroth one day, that was until she met Riza.

"Yes?" Madame replies.

"Who is that man? Do you need me to get him out of here for you?" She whispers, showing Madame a glimpse of the shiny pistol hidden on her small waist. Madame chortles at the woman's ferociousness.

"No, dear. This man is my older brother. Roy's _father_."

The young woman's eyes widen and she lets out a ear shattering squeal, before throwing her arms around the older man. "It's so good to meet you, Mr. Mustang!"

Noticing her _assets_ pressed so closely to him, he whispers in her ear, earning a giggle from the young woman and a glare from his sister. "Oh, stop it, you!" Vanessa says in a seductive voice. "Now I know where Roy gets it! It will be great having a man stay with us for once. We haven't had one stay here in a long time!"

Her remark sparked up a valid uncertainty that had yet to be addressed. Where was he staying and for how long?

"Oh, darling, I couldn't impose on you lovely ladies." He responds.

_'Oh cut the crap.'_ Chris thinks. "Where are you staying, brother?"

He looks down at his empty glass tracing the lip with his finger. His nervous habit. "I have some friends I can lodge with..."

Madame takes another tug from her cigarette, working out the dilemma in her mind. She wasn't sure how Roy would take it if he found out his estranged father was staying at the brothel. A little uncertain, she retorts, while exhaling cigarette smoke. "You can stay up in Roy's old room."

Thanking her, he follows her up to the room shortly after. "There." She says, pointing at the door before walking off into the end of the dark hallway.

He stands in the quiet hall, his hand lingering over the steel doorknob. He had only ever been on the other side of the door twice before, both under unwanted circumstances. He hoped one of Christmas' beautiful women would come up here and ease his mind from this terribly unsettling situation he was in. He needed a woman's touch, it had been quite some time since he had been intimate with anyone, after all. To his dismay, the hall remained as quiet as it was, contrary to the hustle and bustle when he arrived. With a heavy sigh, he twists the knob open and lets himself in. The room hadn't looked much different from when he was there last. Roy was an unexpected child, there was never any time to make a baby room, so his room was a spare room usually for provided for Madame's staff.

Between the crevice of the bed and the nightstand, he pulls out a photo album and settles onto the bed. Flipping through the pages, he finds photos of his son from infancy to adulthood. There are pictures of his boy losing his baby teeth, birthdays, some of him and the girls at the bar and others that he assumes were girlfriends at the time. He was a bit surprised to see the amount of photos decrease as he aged. The only photographs remaining in the album are of Roy and a dreary girl with short blonde hair in front of a sizable house, another of him and a man with short dark hair and glasses, and the final one at his military graduation.

"You know, it's not polite to look through someone's things." Speaks a husky voice from the doorway.

Startled he closes the book and tosses it onto the bed. Seeing it's his sister he lets out a sigh of relief. "_Chris_."

She smiles at her older sibling, aware that he had peeked at Roy's photo album. "He grew up into a wonderful man."

"It looks like you did a great job raising him."

"As much as I appreciate your compliment. The girls had a helped me tremendously. I guess his alchemy master also had a bit in his upbringing."

"Alchemy master?"

"Berthold Hawkeye. He was a strange, but good man. That ol' nut." She snorts. "Anyway, if you need anything, just give me a holler. My bedroom is where it's always been." Roy senior watches as his sister makes her way out. She wasn't exactly sure she could trust him yet, but as of right now, she had no reason to suspect anything unusual.

"Oh, and Chris..." He speaks finally, the portly woman's eyes meet his dark orbs. "Thanks."

[+]

"What have you found?" Roy asks a nervous Fuery in his subordinates' office. It had been three days since the bomb threat had occurred and he and his subordinates, including Hughes, were discussing the only leads they had, an Ishvalan sighting. Frankly, he hoped the the suspects weren't Ishvalan, if there were any survivors, the last thing they should do is threaten Amestrians. No, they should be looking for refuge elsewhere, where they wouldn't be targeted by the military.

"The only thing we found is this, Colonel Mustang." The young bespectacled soldier says, peeling of the top sheet from a stack of papers he was holding. The papers were actually military recruiting flyers with none other than Roy Mustang standing in a bravado pose in the ruins of Ishval. It was a photo taken by the press from a Central newspaper company, the Central Daily Tribune. The idea to use his photograph for the recruiting flyers was an idea the higher-ups had come up with. Despite his protests, it was agreed that no one but the Flame Alchemist could lure young citizens into joining the military. Of course, the posters wasn't what had caught young Fuery's attention, it was the words written across the flyers, 'MURDERER.'

Riza frowned, noticing Roy's jaw was unusually tense while he intently stared at the words. The picture used for the poster was a rancorous reminder of a blood-curdling past, one he'd often find swallowing his slumber, with the help of opiates and alcohol, shortly after the war. Although the words that defiled the flyers were true, it didn't mean it didn't hurt him any less.

Everyone in the room became tense at their superior's uncharacteristic silence. Mustang's unit were among the few who knew he opposed the war, despite his involvement.

Hughes peered over Roy's shoulder to get a better view of the flyers. "That's a really great photograph!" He beams trying to rid of the awkward tension in the room. Plus to admire the fine photography adorning the flyer. The Lieutenant Colonel was a man who was quite skilled with a camera himself, after all!

"Where did you find these?" Roy asks after an elongated moment of silence.

The question had made Fuery become nervous, his mouth twitching to try and form a proper response. He had only been recruited into the unit recently, and was still anxious when talking to his new superior officer. Surely he was intimidated by Colonel Matthews in Southern Headquarters, but the famed Flame Alchemist was much more frightening. "W-well actually. They were all like this. We took them down immediately but we're not sure how long they've been vandalized or how many people have seen them."

Silence ensues the office once more.

Resting his chin on his hands, Roy continues to examine the flyers closely. "Thank you, Master Sergent. You may return to your previous assignment." He states, while waving off his anxious young soldier from saluting.

"Do you suppose the bomb threat and the vandalism are related, Colonel?" Riza inquires, a bit anxious of the response. Mustang was very special to her, and she feared for his well-being. She hoped the ghastly reminder of his involvement in Ishval wouldn't cause him to isolate himself again.

"Well, it almost solidifies the Ishvalan sighting." He declares almost too forcefully. Hawkeye knew the answer, but hearing it from his mouth stung worse. Always in constant fear, he will steer off path.

"Geez, all this talk is getting me depressed. I say we take our minds off of this case and get some drinks tonight. What do you say, Chief?" Havoc questions, leaning on the hind legs of his chair. Though, his balancing act earns him a unimpressed glare from Hawkeye and he immediately straightens himself out. He was sure she would scold him later.

Hughes jovially drapes his arm around Roy's shoulders. "That sounds like a great idea, Havoc. Roy needs a night out to get his mind of all of this negativity!"

Roy sighs in exasperation. He supposed having a couple of drinks didn't sound too bad. "Alright. I probably should pay a visit to the Madame tonight anyway. I'll take you up on the offer, Havoc." His subordinates knew of the Madame and her relation to Roy, but they weren't aware of how useful she or the girls who worked for her were, save for Hughes and Hawkeye. Plus seeing his aunt would be quite useful, if anyone might have any news about any suspicious activity around the city, it was her.

"Everyone's invited. Drinks are on me!" Hughes shouts. The older bespectacled man wraps his free arm around Hawkeye. Pulling Roy and Riza close to him sides. Clearly, Maes Hughes was not a man who knew when he was invading one's personal space.

"Sorry, Lieutenant Colonel. I won't be able to join you tonight." Riza states, pulling out of the tall man's grip. Roy frowned at her declining the invitation, he was hoping she would come, it had been a long time since they spent time together when the military wasn't involved.

"Unfortunately, I won't be able to join you guys either." Breda grins, pulling a small piece of paper out of his pocket. "I have a date tonight."

Havoc glares at the pudgy red head. "That woman from the evacuation?" He asks, his question answered with a proud nod from Breda. Havoc groans. "I saw her first!"

"You're right. After you stared at her chest with your mouth wide open, it gave me a good opportunity to save her from 'that blonde pervert'." Breda quoted with an arrogant smirk. Mustang sniggers, a bit impressed with Breda's luck find such a toothsome woman and Havoc's terrible luck with the opposite sex. It was no secret to anyone that Havoc had a weakness for women with large breasts, but had a terrible time flirting with East City women, who were much more exuberant and rambunctious than the women back from his small hometown.

Riza clears her throat loudly enough to silence the men in the office. The conversation about evening plans and women's breasts was definitely getting uncomfortable. Unfortunately, her comrades were too comfortable talking about their sexual life around her. "I suggest you men get back to work." She commands. Her gaze then settles on Roy who was leaning on a desk next to Hughes. "That includes you too, Colonel." She affirms before returning to her desk.

Hughes sharply jabs his elbow into Roy's rib and shoots him a mischievous grin. "So, Hawkeye..." he whispers.

"Shut up, Hughes." Roy hisses.

[+]

Roy Sr. had become well accustomed around the brothel in the three days he had been there. The women had welcomed him graciously, much like the previous ones had over twenty years earlier. Madame had been impressed with how helpful he had become to her and the girls, cooking them meals, cleaning up the large establishment, and dismissing rowdy customers.

"The girls have taken quite a liking to you, brother." Madame says, with a ghost of smile playing on her face. She and Roy Sr. stood behind the bar fixing drinks for customers. He smiled at the remark, in fact, he was quite happy that his return to East City had been playing out rather nicely. "What made you change? She inquires, she was grateful he had been helpful but she still couldn't help but feel suspicious.

"This." He smiles warmly, holding up a gold pendant bound to his necklace. The glint under the dim lights of the bar had reminded her it was that very pendent that caught her attention three nights ago. Madame studied the pendant closely, she was familiar with the motif etched onto the gold.

"You're religious?" she questions, not at all expecting religion would bring about his change.

He held it close to his chest, closing his eyes as if he felt warmth radiating from the medallion. "After I left here all those years ago, I headed East. Some people took everything I had. They broke several of my bones and left me for dead. Then a man saved me. He took me in and treated me like family. Priest Abiasi. I would like for you to meet him one day, Chris. He changed my life." He wipes off wet rings left on the bar by the condensation of cold drinks, then collects glassware left by customers.

Madame contemplates her brother's surprising change. He was a man who had been. metaphorically speaking, reborn again through religious enlightening. He couldn't forgive himself for what he had done, so he found religion to do it for him. Religion wasn't Madame's cup of tea, but the cheap charade had definitely changed her brother.

"Chris, Do you think little Roy will ever forgive me?" He queried, his gaze fixed on the same spot on the counter he had been cleaning for the past couple of minutes.

The question had caught her off guard and she began to think about her _son. _Roy was not the forgiving type, nor was he the type to take his loved ones for granted, unlike his father had been. She knew Roy wasn't going to easily accept the man into his life after a sudden and unexpected appearance. She knew she had to tell Roy was bound to find out about his fathers return soon, but the reunion frightened her. _What would he do? How would he act?_ As if on cue, she heard the front doors of the bar swing open, and three familiar voices traveled in.

She heavily sighed and her glare returned to her brother who had been meticulously cleaning the same spot on the counter. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

* * *

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